


Guardian Angel

by colorofmymind



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Bottom!Oliver, Insecurity, M/M, NSFW, Olivarry Week 2016, Porn With Plot, Smut, Top!Barry, day 2: jealousy/protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-13 00:12:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7130324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorofmymind/pseuds/colorofmymind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry Allen is fairly comfortable in his relationship with a certain archer from Starling City and everything that goes with it; however, an offhand remark starts to make him question some things about his role in regards to his partner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Devil_In_Disguise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devil_In_Disguise/gifts), [wordswehavesaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswehavesaid/gifts).



> Sorry this is a day late! First I wanted to say while this is both fulfilling the day two prompt, it's also my mutual's, Devil_In_Disguise, super belated birthday present (if you haven't checked out her stuff for Olivarry I recommend it; they're good reads.) I hope you all are enjoying Olivarry Week as much as I am, and I hope you enjoy reading my trashy smut because Olivarry owns my ass.

The flashlight burns his eyes a little, but it’s an irritation Barry’s grown accustomed to after countless medical examinations from Dr. Caitlin Snow. She is testing his cognitive functions after his run-in with Weather Wizard tonight ended in a near-concussion. Possibly a concussion, even though that’d probably be fully healed in two days maximum if he treated it right.

“Alright, Barry, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary with your responses. Any pain you’re experiencing should go away by tomorrow at the latest,” she reports, her eyes trained on the notes on her clipboard.

After flipping through some pages, Caitlin falls out of her medical stupor, looking back up at him. “Although, I did notice some minor differences in your stamina levels, and you’ve undergone a huge increase in your endorphin count, specifically in oxytocin, prolactin, epinephrine, phenylethylamine, and particularly testosterone and serotonin. I have to ask this, as your physician and mostly because it relates to your speed.” There’s a pause as she glances back at Cisco sitting behind the computer monitors before turning back her attention to Barry. “Have you been more sexually active recently?”

Not _this_ again. Barry had thought that they had exhausted this conversation back when he was dating Linda Park, but it seems like any time he steps into a relationship his friends will be pretty insistent on the details…especially about the weird kind of stuff friends shouldn’t be asking about.

He hears Cisco nearly choke on his lollipop in the background, and the speedster rushes to his friend as a precaution. But the engineer is laughing by the time he runs over, and it doesn’t take Barry too long to gather that Cisco heard _everything_ Caitlin was saying.

“Sorry, sorry,” his friend finally gets out, idly twirling the lollipop in his hand. “I guess things are going _really_ well between you and Oliver.”

Barry ducks his head down in response, not sure how to verbally respond without unintentionally sounding like Felicity. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Caitlin biting down on her bottom lip in embarrassment, and once she notices him staring at her she mouths a silent ‘sorry’ and starts fiddling around with the equipment around her.

“I should have brought this up at a later time,” she admits, slightly blushing when she looks up from her equipment, her lips pulling at the ends in obvious discomfort.

“Well you said it’s about Barry’s speed, so it’s relevant to all of us,” Cisco says with a blasé attitude.

Barry hisses “Cisco!” but the other man doesn’t seem much fazed by the warning.

“So, I guess it’s important to know, you know, who’s doing what so we know what kind of energy you’re outputting,” Cisco continues, finishing his sentence while sucking loudly on his lollipop again.

Barry thinks he wants the ground to swallow him up from this conversation right now, but it takes everything in him not to run right out of the cortex after what Cisco follows his comment up with.

“So, he’s the one giving, right?” he asks casually. Barry isn’t quite aware, but he’s pretty sure he’s gaping at this point. “Because I cannot see Oliver Queen as a guy who isn’t top, but I didn’t peg him as bi either so—”

The speedster walks in normal time to grab his jacket that’s hanging off one of the chairs. Not bothering to look back, he breaks into a run towards Star City.

***

It’s long after all the others have left. Oliver had stayed behind, completing his workout regimen since work at the campaign office was particularly extensive today and cut into that time usually set aside. After they’d finished patrolling the city, he had sent the team home, telling Thea he’d come to the apartment later.

His hands almost slip from their grip on the bar as the sudden rush of red and wind sweeps through the base.

“Barry.” It more comes out as a grunt since he says it while shifting upward to the last rung, and he smirks as the younger man watches his descent from the ladder and his strides forward.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come in tonight,” Oliver remarks, although he’s not unhappy with the surprise visit. It’s when Barry’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes that the archer frowns. “Is something the matter? Do you need me to suit up?”

Barry’s gaze seems to refocus and at first he’s met with confusion and the typical followed up look that his partner almost always gives when he’s realized he’s miscommunicated something.

“No, no, no! Everything in Central is fine, I mean crime-wise, it’s just…” the younger man trails off, fisting his hand in his hair.

Oliver doesn’t say anything, allowing the other man to process what he wants to say, just looking at him with raised eyebrows. Before he can process it in real time, Barry’s lips are on his, and he’s pressed up against the edge of one of the exam tables. Bracing his hands on the lip of the table, he responds quickly enough.

As they part for air, Oliver lets out a low chuckle. “Just came to say you love me?”

“Something like that,” the speedster breathes against his mouth. Oliver is then lifted up into Barry’s arms bridal style, which, while this has admittedly happened before, it’s usually to get out of dangerous situations in Oliver’s experience.

“Where are we going?” he questions, wrapping his arms around Barry’s neck. He’s about to bring up also that he does not have a shirt on right now, but he chooses to leave that detail out as his khaki-clad leg brushes up against the tent in Barry’s pants.

“Home,” the man admits up against his ear. His breath feels hot against Oliver’s skin and that combined with the meaning of that admission causes him to grip a little tighter onto the other’s neck. “I want to—I want to try something out.”

The next thing Oliver’s aware of is being on his bed, the mattress dipping as Barry climbs on top. He pulls the younger man down by his shirt collar, to which he actually yelps in surprise much to Oliver’s amusement. He starts and Barry helps to coordinate lifting off the sweater first, and he really shouldn’t be surprised after one year of dating to find a button-down underneath the sweater.

“Wear too many layers,” he mutters into Barry’s neck as he succeeds at freeing every button from its adjacent hole, exposing his partner’s wonderful creamy skin to him. In the process of undressing him, Oliver begins to mouth and suck on the younger man’s neck.

“Well, forgive me if I actually get—ah!—cold.” The exclamation is made as Oliver sucks on one of Barry’s sweet spots: his collarbone.

He mutters lazily, “Forgiven,” into Barry’s skin, loving how the man shudders above him. After working off the button-down, he places his rough, calloused hands onto Barry’s smooth, bare back, ready to flip their positions. But at the small noise of protest that escapes his partner’s mouth, he falters immediately. Leaning back, he retracts his hold on his lover, resting on his elbows for support while studying the face that’s now near eye-level.

“Barry,” he starts, “What happened in Central tonight?”

Barry sags visibly, but seems to become aware of his faltering position, and locks his arms in place above Oliver. “How do you always know what’s wrong?”

“Well, I hope that we could communicate with each other when something’s wrong, especially after all the time we’ve known each other,” Oliver begins but at the younger man’s falling expression he quickly adds, “But I know that that can’t always be a reality with our lines of work. Still, Barry, I can read you better than I can anyone else, and I know the same goes in reverse. Just talk to me.”

“I know…I know we’ve never done this before,” Barry says and Oliver can’t help but scoff in response, “Not the sex, Ollie.” The younger man looks far off for a second. “Do you feel like I love you enough?”

“Barry?” Yes, Oliver may be able to read Barry very easily, but he admittedly is thrown by the question. “Of course I do. I don’t think someone I’ve met after the island…,” he pauses, struggling to phrase how important, how much better he feels with the man above him. “No one has ever been as accepting, as loving, as you are to me.”

The silence is comfortable, transitionary, and yet tense simultaneously. His eyes are trained on Barry’s face first, then how he swallows thickly, bobbing his Adam’s apple in throat; and his concentrated gaze can’t leave Barry’s hand as it makes its way down his chest, resting on Oliver’s left hip.

“I’ve never made love to you before.”

Barry sucks in a sharp breath after the admission, and Oliver’s arm leaves the bed, his hand cupping the younger man’s cheek.

“I—Barry, do you think that matters to me? I’ve known for a long time now that you care about me as much as I do you; you don’t have to make love to _me_ for me to know that.” Barry’s face shifts in his hand, looking downward, which is not the reaction Oliver is exactly hoping for. “Is it important to you?”

“Maybe; I don’t know. Maybe I thought Cisco was a little right about some things, and I want to be able to…I want to be able to _give_ to you too, Ollie, not just take.”

His fingers curl in Barry’s hair, and his other hand on the bed turns into a fist.

“What the hell did Cisco say to you?” He tempers his voice, so hopefully it doesn’t come out quite as a growl. Barry sighs, letting his arms sag from their position and rests his head on Oliver’s chest.

“He…assumed, I guess, that I don’t call the shots in bed, which isn’t necessarily wrong, because I normally don’t and that’s fine it’s just…”

“Just what, Barry?” Oliver’s trying to follow what the speedster is getting at, but he can tell he’s going to have to guide his partner through the intimate nature of this conversation.

“I have wondered sometimes about calling the shots. Here.” Barry’s fingers start to toy with Oliver’s right nub, and it quickly hardens under his lover’s care. “About what it would feel like to fuck you.”

The last part is barely audible, but Oliver still catches it, eyes widening. It’s just not something he had thought about doing with Barry; they have their own way of doing things and they were happy with that setup. A year ago he would have given an outright no to the idea. But Barry has always made Oliver feel comfortable, loved, even in situations he never would have imagined himself being okay with before. They’re equal partners, and that should apply in every sense of their relationship. And the idea of Barry fucking him does send a shiver down his spine as he tries to imagine it, and his cock twitches at the mental image conjured in his mind.

“We don’t have to do it, Oliver. It’s just I wanted to be honest about what was bothering me, but it was stupid anyways. Believe me, I can’t get enough of you caring for—”

“Let’s do it,” he cuts across the other man. “I’m willing to try it, Barry.”

The younger man perks up from his position, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Really? You really want to do this?”

“I just said—”

The speedster cuts him off with an enthusiastic kiss and he accepts the interruption, parting the younger man’s mouth and sneaking in his tongue. Once they part, Barry has his forehead pressed against Oliver’s, breath coming out in short pants.

“I’m going to make you feel so good Ollie,” Barry whispers determinedly. “But if you have any second thoughts, if you want to stop, we’ll stop. I won’t bring it up again or anything. I don’t want to hurt you or make you feel like you’re not in control too.”

Oliver gives his answer of consent in the form of a chaste kiss to the speedster’s wet, red lips.

Barry wastes no time, as he should have expected, kissing down his neck, then taking to outlining his scars and tattoo with that sinful tongue. Oliver watches in awe as his lover continues his descent down his chest and soon becomes painfully aware of his growing arousal struggling against the constraint of his pants.

“Barry,” he grunts. The man looks up from his place at Oliver’s tattoo on his left side, lips swollen and pupils dilated.

“Ollie?”

Instead of answering with words, Oliver rubs his covered erection against his partner’s leg, hopefully making it known what he needs. Seeming to know instantly, the speedster speed-strips him, his cock springing forward.

Barry grins down at him, and part of Oliver can’t take in the smug smile that the younger man is donning on his face. Leaning up, he takes the Barry’s face in his hands and kisses the smugness right off, smirking as he hears Barry moaning into the kiss.

“ _Oliver_ ,” Barry whines against his mouth. He bites back a laugh and lies back down obediently, splaying his palms out so he can both rest his head and watch his lover. A gasp escapes Oliver as the scientist runs his thumb over the slit on Oliver’s cock, where a bit of precum is leaking. Part of him thinks the move is just as spiteful as it is loving.

“Maybe I’ll suck you off later, Ollie.” The possible promise is said so casually it makes the appeal of the offer even sexier than it usually is to Oliver.

Barry begins to run his hands up and down Oliver’s thighs, then moves one hand to begin fondling his balls. Honestly, he’s pleasantly surprised the man is showing such confidence in this kind of situation.

“You’ve—thought about this a lot,” Oliver guesses.

It’s affirmed by a shy, small nod. “I’ve seen what you do to me, how it might make you feel if I did some of the same things. Some things different.” He raises an eyebrow at that last statement. “I have some ideas,” the speedster protests playfully. “Oliver.” Barry stops the teasing touches. “How do you want me to—” 

It’s a question he’s familiar with, although he’s usually the one asking it. And now he has to think about how he wants to be fucked by Barry. On one hand, Oliver could probably brace himself better on his hands and knees and it’d be harder doing it the other way the first time, but a small part of him selfishly wants to see his lover in action. It’d feel more like love-making than him getting fucked, at any rate.

Oliver swallows thickly. “I want to see you, Barry.”

“Okay,” his partner replies with a confident smile. “Spread yourself for me, Ollie.”

He shifts his legs, stretching them in either direction so hopefully his hole is showing to his lover.

“God, Ollie, you’re going make me cum before I even get inside of you,” Barry confesses. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold it in for you. Hold on a sec.”

Barry leaves the bed, heading over to the bedside table. Oliver tilts his head, watching impatiently as the younger man pulls out the lube.

“You better be stripping off those pants of yours soon,” Oliver warns as his partner returns to the mattress.

“Gotta prep you first,” is the man’s cheeky response.

Barry smears the lube on his fingers, and Oliver shivers slightly at the cool feel of Barry’s index finger against his hole.

“I’m going to start opening you up. Are you still okay with this, Oliver?”

He gives a single nod. “Do it, Barry. I want you.”

If he is being honest, he meant to tack on a ‘to’ to the end of that sentence, but his mouth stopped short of the word. Oliver notices Barry’s eyes continue to widen, him licking at those plump lips of his. It makes Oliver’s own lips feel dry. “Could you say it again?”

“What?”

“Say you want me. Want me to have you.”

“I want you, Barry,” Oliver admits more quietly. “I’m all yours.”

He groans, parts pleasure and pain alike as Barry pushes his first finger in. Barry winces above him, but Oliver shakes his head, signifying for the younger man to keep going. He won’t deny the sensation is strange at first, but with each pump Oliver begins to feel his ring of muscle within loosen; it’s around when Barry’s inserted the third finger and is scissoring his channel that all pain has given way to pleasure. The only thing is that he just needs Barry to do this and _get inside of him_.

“Mmm, Barry.” His voice is breathy and probably sounds horny as hell. Barry’s fingers still within him at the address, and part of him gets a little frustrated that his lover has stopped so suddenly.

“What is it, Oliver? Is it too much? Am I making you hurt at all? Is it not enough? Do you want me to stop?”  The younger man above him has such an expression of concern that it’s both endearing and almost unbelieving. It’s also slightly annoying because Oliver is doing everything in his power to keep himself from bucking up into the man’s hand in the absence of friction.

“You’re doing great, Barry. Now I just need you to take these off,” he says while trailing a free hand along the waistband of Barry’s pants. “I’m ready.”

A smile lights the younger man’s face, although something shifts and the smile is replaced by a curious smirk. That look never leads to good things in Oliver’s experience.

“Ask me for it.”

“What? Barry I—” He can’t hold back a gasp at the feeling of Barry’s fingers pulling out of him.

Propping himself back on his elbows, he’s met with the downright gleeful grin his partner’s donning.

“I want you to ask me to do this. It’s just, it’s always how I imagined this happening in my head…” the younger man trails off. While Oliver would normally label the speedster’s behavior as irritatingly cocky, in this instance he knows where it’s all coming from behind the suggestive wordplay.

“Barry.” He stops, trying to think of how to phrase the words in mind to reassure the man above him. Barry needs to feel confidant while doing this, while doing this _to him_. Oliver sits up, mouth on Barry’s ear, voice never edging beyond a whisper. “I’ve never felt you or anyone like this. No one else has ever known me like this or ever will. All you have to do is call the shots, _Bear_.” The nickname is new to his tongue but he’s heard it in passing, hoping he hasn’t misused it. The way that the younger man’s eyes darken in response suggest he hasn’t.

Oliver thinks it’s for his viewing pleasure that Barry doesn’t speed up to rub the lube over his cock. The speedster grips his ass tightly, rubbing and pulling at his cheeks until his hole is exposed. When the other man’s tip nudges at his hole, Oliver can’t help but look down at the sight.

“We’re going to take this slow for you, Ollie. But after that, I can’t promise I can hold back my pace.”

“I know, Barry, you’re fas—” He doesn’t quite finish the sentence as Barry starts pushing in, taking him inch by inch. Oliver truly didn’t know what he’d be feeling in this moment, but everything about it—the feeling of him being opened up, the feeling of someone inside of him—it’s almost too much. He has to screw his eyes shut for a few moments, not even able to look up at his partner above him. Barry stops and even with his eyes still closed he can feel his lover peppering small kisses all over his face.

“How are you feeling?” Barry asks in between his chaste ministrations.

“Just give me a minute,” Oliver grunts back. The adjustment period isn’t too unpleasant, as Barry takes to Oliver’s neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks for certain.

“Mmm, you feel great, Oliver. So tight,” Barry practically hums. A spark distinctly lights his emerald eyes. “I think I can make this easier for you.” While Oliver gazes up curiously, the other man shuts eyes and it’s within a few seconds he feels a buzzing between his legs. _Barry’s vibrating inside of him_. At this point, he’s lost all awareness on what noises are escaping his mouth. His ring of muscle steadily loosens up, and the only pain of Barry being inside of him is that he’s not moving yet.

“Barry, I—I think I need you to move.”

“How do you want it, Ollie?”

If the familiar heat pooling in his gut is any indication, Oliver’s not going to last long.

“Fast. Don’t hold back.”

Barry’s dick stops vibrating, and he pulls out almost completely, tip only just inserted at Oliver’s opening, before slamming right back in.

“ _Bar_ ry.” He slurs the man’s name, unable to correctly articulate anything with each of Barry’s thrusts. His lover hadn’t neglected his wishes, practically pounding into him with a beautiful determination. And if the steady rhythm Barry’s set up is suggesting anything, Barry’s not even close. In doing that teasing movement of pulling out all the way and burying himself back in, Oliver feels Barry hit a bundle of nerves. He has to grind his teeth otherwise he thinks he might actually howl at the sensation.

“Found your prostate,” Barry smirks above him, sweat glistening on his brow. “Gonna have fun with that.”

Oliver can tell what Barry is planning when he pulls out in a similar fashion again, and he bucks up to meet the younger man as he slams back into his prostate. But the move is met with Barry’s hands on each of his hips, pinning him down.

“Naughty Ollie. Let me do the work here. And don’t touch yourself. I’ve got a nice surprise for you.”

“I don’t—uh—usually like surprises, Barry,” he grunts as the speedster thrusts back in.

“You’ll like this one. I promise.”

One of Barry’s hands leaves his hip, wrapping it around Oliver, stroking him in time with the thrusts. As soon as said hand starts vibrating, Oliver releases with a low moan of his lover’s name, spilling into Barry’s hand. Barry’s still fucking him through his orgasm, becoming more and more erratic and steadying out, and to Oliver it almost seems like it will never end. Occasionally he’s filled with a certain warmth, but he thinks that must come from his personal high because Barry can’t have cum yet. As Oliver comes down from the peak of his orgasm, he notices the younger man has stilled and softened inside of him.

“How was it?” Barry asks beside his ear. Oliver notes the hidden ‘I’ in the question.

“Honestly? I don’t where to start. But you were amazing, Barry. I’ve never had someone try to take care of me like this. I shouldn’t be surprised though; you are a guardian angel.”

Tears pool in the other man’s eyes while a smile lights his face at the same time, and Oliver knows he’s made Barry happy.

“Ollie, I’m gonna pull out of you now, okay?” Giving him an agreeing nod, Barry then pulls out, but Oliver still feels full and warm inside even without the younger man. It takes him a minute to realize Barry’s seed must have filled him to the brim as some of his lover’s cum spills out of his hole onto the sheets and his legs. The younger man gives a sheepish glance at him.

“My refractory period is short,” Barry explains shyly as he settles down on the spot next to where Oliver is lying. “You felt so good; I lost track of how many times I came inside of you.”

Oliver stares at his partner, mostly in awe. Having a lover with super speed does always make things in bed interesting. The next thing that leaves his mouth isn’t planned.

“I love you.”

The man beside him grins, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

“Well I love you too Ollie, if I wasn’t obvious enough about it before,” Barry murmurs against his lips.

“For the record, though,” Oliver starts, “Come tomorrow morning I am showing you that I still can call the shots here.” He pulls the younger man into his arms, hopefully making some of his point known.

“Alright, alright,” the scientist chuckles, nuzzling against his chest. “I can’t wait.”

 

 

 


End file.
